1 FATHER, we Thy children bless Thee
For Thy love on us bestowed;
As our Father we address Thee,
Called to be the sons of God.
Wondrous was Thy love in giving
Jesus for our sins to die;
Wondrous was His grace in leaving
For our sakes, the heavens on high.
2 Now the sprinkled blood has freed us,
Hast'ning onward to our rest,
Through the desert Thou dost lead us,
With Thy constant favour blest;
By Thy truth and Spirit guiding,
Earnest He of what's to come,
And, with daily strength providing,
Thou dost lead Thy children home.
3 Though our pilgrimage be dreary,
This is not our resting place;
Shall we of the way be weary
When we see our Master's face?
No: e'en now anticipating,
In this hope our souls rejoice,
And His promised advent waiting,
Soon shall hear His welcome voice.
